Daddy's Girl
by AzaleaBlue
Summary: Rose is a teenager and Ron is an over-protective father. Can a theory about the Horcruxes help resolve the tension between them? - A Horcrux fan theory wrapped around a father daughter story. Hermione POV


A/N: This story is wrapped around a Horcrux theory I came up with yesterday. After I posted it on a fansite, I decided to share it with you all and what better way to do it than wrap it around a story?

Enjoy and please leave a comment!

 **All character rights belong to JKR, the plot and the fan-theory is mine though.**

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 **Daddy's Girl**

I flip through the huge volume of documents that need my attention, my mind automatically wandering over to the two other inmates of the house. There is pin drop silence in our three bedroom plush apartment, and instead of giving me some reassurance it makes me all the more anxious.

Pushing back my chair, I tilt myself back precariously to watch my tall, freckled husband switching channels on the television, a set of atrocious orange coloured headphones he received last Christmas from our daughter snapped tight over his ears. I hate that set, but there was some kind of an internal joke between the father-daughter duo about it which lesser mortals like us were not privy to. Anyway, his brows are scrunched up in that same expression for the past two days and I know I should intervene soon. A peak in the other direction tells me that the door to her room is still closed.

I release a sigh and decide to finish the paperwork some other time. This silent warfare is killing me. As I wave my wand to arrange my table, I can't help remember the fights I had with Ron when we were kids. There were screaming matches yes, but also those infrequent but frustrating periods when we stopped talking. I remember how easy it was, and still is, to give the silent treatment. But watching Rose do the same is a little unnerving. Honestly, Ron should be a pro by now. But his appearance and the minimal conversation he has had with me or Hugo in the past couple of days speak otherwise. He is not taking it well. But then it's not me, it's Rose, his Rose.

I rub my palms over my eyes and set about to arrange the already orderly study the muggle way, shoving the books back a little more snugly in the rack and tilting the flowerpot a little more to the right. I know I am just playing for time here waiting for Ron or even Rose to make the first move. I had seriously not hoped for it to last this long. Nothing between the two ever has, and that worries me more than I care to admit. I want to give Ron an earful, tell him that his daughter is growing up, tell him to give her some space but I know that will not help. He is way too protective of her.

The problem started on the dining table the day Harry, Ginny and the kids came down for dinner, the day James proved once again that he had inherited a fair share of the mayhem creating genes from the twins. I still hope that Rose would have had better sense than to keep the news of her dating Will Thomas on hold from us till it came out that way, in front of Ron, as a joke from James. I don't really blame her, at sixteen she has seen enough of her Dad to know that he would not take such news casually. It wasn't about who the boy was, didn't matter if he was a Gryffindor or the son of his old friend Dean Thomas- he was a boy. That did it for Ron.

It's been a while since I have seen Ron so angry, in fact I don't remember him losing it in front of the kids ever. But what started as a slow back and forth soon turned into a verbal match which I had to put to a stop by promising them both of dire consequences if they didn't. Neither of them looked at me, they glared at each other and Rose was off the table and inside her room, the door shut softly, but firmly, while the rest of us watched Ron who was flaming red by now and breathing so heavy that I was worried he would have worked himself to a stroke. Next thing we know, he announces that Rose is grounded for a month, not even allowed to take part in the Sunday family Quidditch matches at the Burrow.

I tried reasoning with him as Ginny and Harry took the kids outside to the mall. He was adamant. I seriously considered giving him a lengthy lecture but stopped at the look of betrayal in his eyes and ended up wrapping my arms around him instead. He held me close for a while but then gently removed his hands and locked himself inside our room.

Was I surprised? Perhaps not so much.

Even after all the magic in our life, I still marvel at our kids and consider them to be the greatest magic ever. Two humans I created within my body with my Ron.

Rose and Hugo.

Even after sixteen years, they surprise me every time a look at them. Especially Rose.

She is a perfect blend of our genes. Her hair is auburn and has her father's eyes but softer features like me. Her hair has the perfectly tamed set of curls, the kind I envied while growing up. She is brilliant in her studies but extremely reckless and has a Weasley temper to boot. She plays Quidditch like her father and at the same time is extremely orderly. Oh, and yes, she is her father's daughter through and through.

It is such an intense bond the two share that it is difficult to describe in mere words. I still remember the night when she was four and Ron had come down late after a rough raid. She had clung on to him with her beautiful blue eyes brimming and biting her tiny little lips as I tended his wounds. It had been downright impossible to get her off his lap, not that Ron wanted it any other way. She slept with us that night, nestled over his chest, his hands holding her tightly to himself.

In the days when he worked as an Auror and was away on a late night mission, she never slept till he returned back and tucked her in. On the nights he did not get home at all, she often dozed off in the wee hours of the morning waiting for him. Surprisingly, she used to be up at the first sound of his apparition when he returned, no matter how much we silenced her room. She simply knew.

Then there were plenty other occasions, like the day when she was three and had managed to summon down my wand from the high shelf and given herself a nasty burn that had left us running to St. Mungos. Though the Healers had sorted her out pretty soon, she had given herself a fever with the shock of it. I had woken up much later that night next to Hugo's crib to find Ron pacing the hallway with his daughter in his arms, singing a soft lullaby I have heard Molly sing to the kids. He had not put her down for a minute.

It's not like he loves his son less, or is partial, rather he loves them both equally and madly, but he and Rose share something else altogether. It's like they can read each other's minds. He is the one who she runs down to for everything, from the smallest wishes to the largest complaints.

I think, I share the same with Hugo – honestly, my son has given me way less trouble than my daughter. Maybe because, he is way too much like me, a lot more reserved and mature for his age.

I am getting way away from the point here, lost in my thoughts. I lift myself up from the chair I had dropped down to at some point during my monologue and will myself to play the mediator when a sudden crack draws my attention away.

"Harry!" I yell, half annoyed and half relived as I take the picnic basket from his hands. Maybe he can help me out. He follows me to the kitchen after a brief glance at Ron who had simply waved him once and gone back to flipping channels.

"No improvement yet?" he asks while helping me resize the shrunk up food from my mother-in-law to their original proportions.

"None." I reply back grimly as I pull out the plates.

"I was hoping you could talk to Ron." I tell him exasperatedly.

"Molly has sent me here to do the exact same thing. But this is about Rose, Hermione." He declares with a little sad shrug.

"But still. They are never like this. You know how they are, they scream and shout and next thing, he is taking her out for an ice-cream or she is pulling him off to watch a football match." I scream in hushed tones as I throw my arms up.

"Let's see shall we?" he says and we direct the food and the plates towards the centre table in front of Ron. Once they are placed, I go over to our daughter's room as I hear Harry sitting down next to Ron on the couch.

"Rose? Darling?" I call with a soft knock at the door. Normally, I would have not let her brood like this for so long. But I know this is a delicate age and it has more to do with her father than about any boy.

"Mum, I'm not hungry." She replies softly.

"Sweetheart, its lunch time and you are coming out and having your meal with us." I tell her very firmly as I twist the knob. It's still locked.

"Mum... please."

"No Rose. Come out right now. We are waiting for you." I tell her and begin to count. I am at nine when she opens the door. She is clad in an old Chuddley Canon t-shirt and a pair of atrocious ripped jeans that I know Ron hates. Her hair is messy and I lovingly arrange it a little as I look at her cheerless face.

"Come on, grab a plate. Grandma Weasley has sent you your favourite turkey roast." I tell her. After all she has inherited her dad's love of food.

She follows me with downtrodden, fluffy eyes and nods a weak hi towards Harry and glances once at her father who resolutely looks away. I could hex Ron now but I breathe out my temper. I hand her a plate and she sits down on the carpet with her legs crossed and takes tiny helpings of the vast spread. I notice even Ron's plate is not even half filled.

"...another haul of dark objects has surfaced after that anonymous lead we got." tells Harry as he spoons in the pasta.

"Anything interesting?" inquires Ron with a sideways glance at his daughter. He has put away the remote and I am really keeping my fingers crossed now.

"No, just regular, but we are scanning."

"They've stopped making the good dark ones." I know Ron is joking but I still swat him at the arms.

"What are the good dark ones Ron? Horcruxes ?" Harry stops in shock and turns guiltily at Ron and me before turning towards Rose.

"I know what Horcruxes are, Uncle Harry." She says softly and I find a pair of green eyes turning towards me.

"I pestered Mum for the whole story since what is available in the books has large logical holes." She reples casually, directing her eyes at Harry before adding another line as she glances at her father.

"Plus I am old enough now. You all had already fought in Department of Mysteries at my age." She says defiantly.

He chooses not to reply or have heard and I am torn between being annoyed and relieved.

"Have you told the others?" asks Harry. I know he has been contemplating telling the children because they are getting so many different versions of the story anyway.

"Albus knows." She replies a little sceptically but puts aside her plate and adds earnestly,

"We think you should tell the others too, I mean you all were so brave back then!" she says looking at us and I notice her eyes lingering over her father longer than at us.

"I can't imagine how you might have lived for months in that tent..." She adds and I recognise her zeal to discuss it with all the three of us. I had just told her during the last Christmas on a girls' night between the two of us and she had bombarded me with questions till I had detailed our adventures to her from beginning to end.

"Can you tell me more about the Silver Doe please?" she asks the boys, anger all forgotten, eager to hear that part first hand from them.

"I-I love the part where Dad destroys the locket." She says and I notice the two finally looking at each other. A softness graces her eyes that reminds me so much of Ron when he used to be flustered.

"I doubt we can tell you the story better than your Mum, Rosie." Replies Harry fondly.

"You know, I have a theory. I have been thinking so much since Mum told me about it, I thought maybe you can tell me if it's right?" she says excitedly and I can see she has been waiting to tell this for a while.

"Ask away, Sweetheart." I tell her as Harry and I share a smile after a quick look at Ron. He hasn't said anything but I can sense him cooling already.

"Okay." She says with a twinkle in her eyes and bites her lip in excitement before turning around towards us.

"Remember how you said that Horcruxes are the darkest of all dark objects, and mighty powerful at that?" she asks me and I nod at her urging her to continue.

"What if Voldemort's Horcruxes could identify the witch or wizard who posed the greatest threat to each of them and then tortured that person most, even tried to kill them if it could to save itself?" She asks beaming and I ponder over it while the boys are still looking at her intently.

She makes a small sound of annoyance at their looks and I laugh softly to myself at the familiarity. That was exactly how I felt explaining things to them sometimes.

"I'll tell you" she says and starts counting on her fingers.

"First Tom Riddle's Diary. It tortured Aunt Ginny, but Mum said it told you- Uncle Harry, that you were its target. Tom Riddle places it to set the Basilisk on the muggleborns and the diary decides to change plans and kill you? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of the Slytherin's Monster, anyway?" she looks questioningly at Harry and I can see him playing the idea in his head.

"It entices _you_ to go down to the Chamber and tries to kill you and would have done it if not for Fawkes, right? That's what I am saying. It was targeting its greatest threat- Uncle Harry!" she says enthusiastically and before letting us speak goes to her next point.

"Then the ring, the one destroyed by Albus Dumbledore? Just think, if Voldemort had hidden the Locket there, it would not have affected Dumbledore the same, isn't it? It was the Resurrection Stone that made him wear it, in other words Dumbledore searches for all of the Horcruxes but finds only that one which has the potential to attract and harm him? That Horcrux practically gave him a death sentence!"

I notice Harry and Ron have both gone grim and contemplate stopping Rose but she is too much like me. I can see her realise that the idea is catching on and her enthusiasm bubble.

"Then the Hufflepuff's Cup, the one that was hidden in the Lestrange's vault, and who tortured and tried to kill Mum? Bellatrix Lestrange. She picks Mum, neither of you, just her." She has the steel in her eyes that make her look strikingly similar to Ron.

"Every single time the Horcrux targets the one who is destined to destroy it. Too strange and repetitive to be a coincidence, isn't it?"

We are too mesmerized by this point to stop her so we listen on.

"Neville killed the snake. Once he told us that while growing up he was mortified of Professor Snape- Professor Snape, the head of the house of Snakes and he received most of his injuries the year Professor Snape was the headmaster, didn't he?" She took a deep breath and continued.

"Then the diadem. Wasn't this Crabbe guy outside this very room guarding when you were in your sixth year? And just think, even if he was tracking Uncle Harry during the Battle of Hogwarts, he ends up confronting you only when you have reached the location of the Horcrux he is destined to finish? It is like the Horcrux literally called him to his death." She states and I can almost see our escape from the flames in the Room of Requirements once again, I realise Harry and Ron are doing the same.

"And the part that was inside you- the one that Voldemort finished himself? " she looks at Harry. "Seriously Uncle Harry, you were literally a magnet pulling him to you all the time. He literally killed himself, trying to finish you."

I can see the gleam in their eyes and I know I have the same in mine.

"Finally the Locket." She says and Ron is practically looking sick.

"Dad, I know you think it affected you the most," she says looking at him in the eye and I notice her eyes are slightly moist.

"But you know what I think?" she says softly and I notice she has inched closer to him and is leaning against his leg, still sitting on the floor and is looking intently at her father.

"The Locket feared you Dad, more than it feared Mum or Uncle Harry. You didn't leave because you doubted yourself, it made you doubt yourself because it had to save itself from you. With you there, it had no chance to save itself."

She is speaking softly as if the words are for her Dad alone and I see moisture glistening in my brave husbands eyes, I can't express how proud I am of our daughter right now.

"It was not strong enough to kill you, like it did with Dumbledore or that Crabbe guy. And before you deny, just think how Professor Snape managed to pass you all the Sword just after you had come back. If you were not the Locket's biggest fear, the Locket's doom, then Uncle Harry would have been able to finish it. It forced _you_ to go away because it was safe that way." She finished in a shaky voice and Ron was now on the floor, hugging his daughter tightly in his arms as she whimpered in his chest.

Harry and I move away towards the balcony and only once we are there, the Boy-Who-Lived chuckles softly.

"I think Rose just took away the title of the Brightest Witch of Our Age from you, Hermione." He laughs and I can see that pride in his eyes. We touch our wine glasses as a toast to our successful mission when the sound of familiar laughter floats towards us and we make our way back.

"And one more thing," says our daughter as she straightens up. "That Deluminator, Professore Dumbldore gave you? It was not because he doubted you either, Dad. He just gave you guys a way to reach each other just in case you got separated!"

"Rosie, now you are just making this up." I see Ron is growing red around his ears.

"No Dad, seriously! I mean he could not have bequeathed the book to either the two of you, that would look totally suspicious and he could not give you the snitch because well, that was for Uncle Harry.

For Merlin sake he was sending you three out for a mission during war while the entire Death Eater brood was after you. Do you think he would not have given you all a way to find each other if you got separated somehow? Come on, he was a genius! He would have thought of it!

He gave you the Deluminator because _you_ were the link between Mum and Uncle Harry, Dad! Your making fun of Mum brought you three together to fight the troll. Just like it was suppose to be a link tying you three together! Please don't tell me you didn't figure that out for yourself?!"

I notice pride reflecting in Ron's eyes like never before.

"I think you lost that title of being Ron's favourite girl to Rosie too, Hermione." Harry whispers next to me.

"I lost it the day Rose was born, Harry" I tell him.

"Come on, we are going to the Burrow. Time for a game of Quidditch!" Declares Ron and I notice Rose rush away to put on her jacket and he is standing outside her door.

"So we are packing all this and taking it back again?" I grumble looking at the partly eaten food and Harry comes forward to help me out

"Bye Mum." Tells my daughter cheerfully as her arms wrap around her father.

Just before they apparate away I hear Ron words.

"Call the boy for the next game, Rosie. Let's see if he is worth dating you."

With that the two disappear.


End file.
